That he was lying to her.
That he was keeping something hidden.
She had to get ready for the gala—there was no time to read more.
With shaking hands, she tried to make up her face in front of the vanity mirror.
What had Ivan lied about, to her mother?
Was he already married? That might explain why Samara was so angry with him. But they were so young—it seemed unlikely that Ivan had already entrapped himself in an unhappy marriage. Maybe he’d lied about his age, too.
Nadia pondered all kinds of wild scenarios as she styled her hair.
Was he a spy? Maybe he wasn’t Russian at all. That seemed far-fetched though—like something out of a novel.
Nadia slipped into her dress and zipped it up the back. Then she stepped into her stiletto shoes.
She shouldn’t have read the journal. Now she was trembling, on edge, when she very much needed to be calm and collected and charming.
At least Nikolai was on time—she could see his headlights coming up the drive.
She hid the journal hurriedly under her pillow. She didn’t want to take it with her.
* * *
28
Nikolai
Nikolai drove toward the Bolshoi Theater, uncomfortable in his formal tux. He felt sick and overheated, dreading the evening to come. He glanced over at Nadia, who looked more stunning than he’d ever seen her before.
She was wearing a flame-red gown, perfectly fitted to her gorgeous figure, and slit high up the thigh. Its color brought out the vivid hue in her cheeks and her full red lips. She pinned her hair half-up, so it was drawn back from her face, highlighting the exotic tilt of her eyes, with masses of dark curls tumbling down her back.
She wore gold earrings and slender gold bangles on both wrists. And there on her left hand was the ruby ring he’d bought for her, throbbing and gleaming with vivid color, even in the dim light of the car.
It gave him a thrill beyond anything he’d known, seeing it there on her finger. It was like an unbreakable link, binding the two of them together. It represented everything he hoped for in the rest of their lives together.
But in that moment, it was the only thing making him happy. Because the rest of him was full of dread.
He could think of a hundred times over the past weeks when he should have come clean to Nadia—should have explained the real circumstances behind their meeting, and his initial pursuit of her. But he’d let it go on too long. And now it was too late.
All he could do was grit his teeth and try and get through the night. Once it was all over, and once they were married, surely none of it would matter anymore. He’d make Nadia as happy as she deserved.
He was so lost in these thoughts that it took him longer than it should have to perceive that Nadia was likewise tense and pale, twisting her hands in her lap.
“What is it, my love?” he asked her.
“Oh, nothing!” she said with a start. “I—it’s nothing.”
“Was your aunt upset? About the engagement?” he asked her.
“Less than I expected,” Nadia said.
“What about your family back home?”
“Well,” Nadia said ruefully, “the ones who might have cared aren’t alive anymore. And the new heads of the family had something of a forbidden love affair themselves. So, I expect it will be alright in the end. As long as your family accepts me.”
She looked over at him, her eyes large and luminous and questioning.
